


My Man

by maderr



Category: Green Hornet (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderr/pseuds/maderr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kato is always claiming he's not Britt's man. Britt finally gets around to disagreeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Man

"A night off," Britt said.

"You can't—"

"Yes, I can," Britt said, cutting Lenore off before she could get super huffy instead of just mildly huffy. "I'm the Green Hornet, and if I say we're taking a night off, then we're taking a night off. See, that's the problem with all those other guys—no down time. I bet a lot less stuff would go boom—"

Lenore snorted at that.

Figuring she was right, but not liking to think about that part, Britt moved on. "Night off. Taking it. You go do your thing, Kato and I are going to stay here and watch movies and—stuff."

"Whatever," Lenore muttered, in that tone that said she was giving up, and if he managed to set something on fire (again) she was not going to help him (except she would). Storming off, Jimmy Choo's clicking sharply on the marble tiling, she left them alone in the mansion.

"Yes!" Britt cheered, and accepted the glass of scotch that Kato promptly appeared with, as smooth and prompt and perfect as only Kato could be. "My man—"

"I'm not your man," Kato protested automatically.

Britt downed the scotch, then decided to address the problem head on. "More scotch," he said instead, and strode off to the rec room that they would probably leave a wreck in the morning but that was why he had copious amounts of money and cleaning staff.

He poured another scotch, double, and downed most of it. Turning around, he discarded his jacket, throwing it over a barstool. "We need to talk Kato."

"Night off," Kato said tersely. "No talking."

"That is the end game," Britt replied, "but first there must be talking. I thought about skipping it, see, but I really didn't want to end up going through glass again and this suit is new and I like it and I don't want it going in the pool—"

"Talk," Kato said, and downed his own scotch.

Britt smiled, all earnest and endearing because that always worked for him. "You always get so tetchy when I call you my man."

"Not your man," Kato replied, scowling a bit. He was always a bit more free with the violence when intoxicated—Britt was rather hoping that would extend into other things, but first there must be talking. He really had tried to find a way to skip that part, but well, some thins were unavoidable.

"See, here's the thing," Britt continued, as though Kato hadn't spoken. He finished off the rest of his scotch, beginning to feel the warmth as it hit his system. He was a superhero, he could and would do this—he could do anything. "I think you doth protest too much."

Kato frowned.

"You doth," Britt repeated. "Cause you are my man. You do the cars, the coffee, you kick my ass, criminal ass, everyone's ass, you don't listen to anyone but me, and I don't listen to anyone but you—and Lenore, but that's different, I don't know why I thought I wanted her she's totally more a nagging mom than hot and doable but anyway, I only listen to you. Cause you're my man and I'm your man and I really think you need to stop with the doth protest too much stuff."

Kato just continued to frown, but with a touch of 'I will kick your ass' to it. Long used to violence, more than a little of it from Kato in a snit, Britt blundered on. For better or worse, he could not remember what it was like not to have violence in his life. And with Kato—

Well, they'd get to that eventually. Baby steps, or something.

"So here's what I'm thinking. It's our night off. We could do the usual movies, get fucked up, beat each other up, get drunk and listen to classical music in the car thing—or you could beat me up for form's sake, and instead of the garage we could wind up in my bedroom and do really awesome, filthy things to each other and stop all this posturing. I mean, everyone has already decided we're dating or married or something and they're just more convince every time you say that 'not your man' thing. I don't know about you—"

He never got the rest of the sentence out, and then was too busy gasping for breath to remember how to speak at all, and he really shouldn't sort of—well, get off—on fighting with Kato but he did and that had been the first clue and he wasn't stupid, or afraid of change, and he wasn't afraid of Kato either—

"That was unusually expensive," he said in idle reprimand as he clambered off the broken table Kato had thrown him on. Then they were back at it, fighting down the hallway, no real heat in it anymore, only his own grin and Kato's too stern expression—

Then Kato got in a last nasty kick, and Brent went flying, through his bedroom door, reeling, stumbling—landing with an oof on his bed, and at some point he would really have to remember how to breathe but not at that point because right then and there his arms were full of slender, flexible, energized Asian hotness.

And true to form, Kato knew and could do way more than he ever let on, and if Britt had realized that Kato was that damned talented at doing awesome, filthy things in his bedroom, he might have had this talk sooner—

He broke off sucking on Kato's tongue as metal clicked over his wrists. "Where did you get handcuffs, Kato?"

"Under your bed," Kato replied, then did something with his fingers that made Britt forget what they'd been talking about.

"I always have the best ideas," Britt said eventually, and didn't need to add that while the ideas were his, without Kato he could not bring them to life. Kato was _definitely_ his man.


End file.
